


On A Dare

by shitty4eyes



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, no ghouls in this au soz, they all real drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7767562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shitty4eyes/pseuds/shitty4eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was this really all it took?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Dare

My hand taps out the repetitive rhythm of your average twenty first century Billboard electronic song, almost on its own accord. I have to focus to see anything. Nishiki’s already gotten way too many types of tequila into me and I am _done_. I even make a silent vow to myself to never, ever, ever accept any dare given to me again, ever.

“You don’t know yourself very well, do you,” Kaneki chirps.

Actually fucking chirps.

He’s right, though. I’d do just about anything if the command was preceded by the words ‘I dare you’. Poor Kaneki had to save my ass a-plenty; almost froze to death because Koma dared me out on a frozen pond at two in the morning. Kaneki swatting at me with a hockey stick could have made things worse, though, to be honest.

Anyway. Fuzzy brain. _Focus_.

I blink up at him and grin.

_Would you look at that, he’s tipsy._

His cheeks are all pink with the alcohol, and his black hair is standing up at the back where he’s leaning into the couch. His eyelids look heavy, but his smile lighter than a feather. He glances at me quickly and smiles lazily.

“You’re cheeky when you’re _drunk_.” I poke him on the bicep and I swear to Christ, he seems so shocked by the action that he almost tumbles over onto Touka’s purple flowery rug.

We’re on the floor of Touka’s flat and there are way too many people in this tiny space. If Kaneki weren’t right beside me, I’d probably float off into the atmosphere, never to return again.

Speak of the devil; Touka Kirishima herself plops down on said rug, her hair hanging over her eyes even more than usual. I can barely see her damn face.

“Woah, haven’t you had enough, Touks?” I say, seeing a bottle of vodka in her hand.

“Pffft,” she retorts intelligently, taking another swing. Her honest to God asshole of a brother is the next to join.

“Not nearly enough, I’d say,” he grins, sitting down on the couch between me and Kaneki, with us both instinctively flinching away from his legs. “Still waiting for the fireworks.”

“Shut up, Ayato, I’ve already freaking told you, I’m not—“ she pauses for a moment to seemingly burp into her mouth. Ew.

“Uh huh…” He doesn’t sound very assured.

I don’t know how this happened, but apparently, Kaneki and I were now the centre of mass here, pulling everyone in to form some weird ritualistic circle in the middle of her flat.

“No, _you_ ,” the pink-haired girl who’s name I forget swats at… Uta’s?... arm. He reaches out a tattooed hand and spins the bottle. It lands on Yomo and I see the girl’s eyebrows waggle.

“Oh, come on, Uta, pick me now, _please_ ,” she begs, clinging onto his arm. He looks at her like he’s bored, but hell, he always looks like that. 

“Fine,” he says, his voice lilted. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not how the game—“

Before he can recite the actual rules, she’s already got Yomo in hand and pulling him towards Touka’s bedroom. Touka snarls in disgust.

“Seven minutes in Heaven doesn’t been banging on my bed, you got that?!”

Oh. God. Is that what they’re playing?!

I make to move, but Ayato puts a hand on my shoulder. He grins devilishly, and I can feel myself shrink. “Don’t. You’ll only draw attention to yourself.”

Was he right?

“Besides, you might get lucky.”

…Was he right?

I look over at Kaneki and he… seems to be asleep on Ayato’s leg.

…Is that a good thing?

Ugh, never drinking again. It makes the decision making processes of your brain way too bloody slow.

The circle is alive with talk, and before I know it, seven minutes had apparently passed, and Yomo stumbles out of the room, covered in pink lipstick marks. Tsukiyama giggles and Yomo glares.

_…Who the hell invited Tsukiyama?_

Two more goes, and rules fly out of the window _completely_.

I’m thinking of a game plan to get out of being picked when the bottle points straight at Kaneki and I’m sure my eyes inflate to thrice their size.

He’s asleep! This isn’t right!

It’s not _moral_.

I look at Tsukiyama and he… He rigged it! He must have! He’s smiling like the cat that got the cream, and it makes my stomach churn. I’ve always known about his… thing with Kaneki.

Well, it’s not a thing.

Tsukiyama just sniffed Kaneki in passing and I swear that one time he touched his butt.

“Oh, can I pick myself?” he sing-songs.

“No!” I say before I can stop myself. My mouth snaps shut. I glance at Kaneki. No best friend lets another best friend get snogged by a creep.

Kaneki almost stirs. Wow, he’s sleeping soundly.

It’s kind of cute.

“Ooooh, jealous now, are we?” Pink Hair pipes up, and I can actually feel myself turn red. I try and stand up. I fail tremendously.

One thing Ayato’s good for, is a squishy thing to land on, I suppose. Everyone laughs as I pull myself from his lap, and Kaneki actually wakes up this time. Pink Hair grins and stands up fluidly, picking Kaneki up by the hand while he’s still blinking sleep out of his eyes.

“Wha?” he manages.

“We’re playing Seven Minutes in Heaven, silly!”

It takes a minute for that to register. His grey eyes widen and he turns a violent shade of red.

“I… But I wasn’t! I didn’t—“

“Come on, Hide,” she adds, using her other hand to pull him along.

“Hide!?”

I didn’t know Kaneki could look more shocked at this point. I… kind of was in shock? It’s not that big a deal, though; we go into a locked room for seven minutes, and pretend to kiss.

Big deal.

So people will say we’re gay.

Big deal.

By that logic, we could actually just… you know…

Not that big a deal.

Oh, God, how drunk am I?!

I’m thrown into a room before I can debate the question, and the door is shut before I can even make out where the bed is.

Kaneki’s standing against the door like a cornered stray.

“Hah, hi,” I say and wave, smiling widely. Thanks, alcohol. Really calming those nerves.

Kaneki just swallows. Poor thing.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, we don’t actually have to kiss—“

“Yes, you do!” somebody—Ayato?—yells from the other side of the door.

“Shut up!” I yell back, and kick the door, nearly falling over.

Kaneki still looks pretty damn panicked. I take a step forward and put my hand on his shoulder.

“We’re friends, right? People do these types of things to friends all the time, trying to coax some sort of ‘You’re my best friend, but I’ve always loved you’ thing out of it and—“ I trip a bit over my own two feet, ignoring the rush of blood to my ears. “—Honestly, it’s all really… I don’t know, man. Who’s going to admit their undying love in a dare.”

Kaneki’s very quiet. He looks up at me, and that damn blush isn’t gone at all.

I… I don’t know why I’m blushing, but I can’t seem to stop.

After almost a minute, he finally pipes up: “You’ve done crazier things, you know.”

I drop the hand that’s rubbing the back of my neck.

“I… what?” I can actually hear the nerves in my voice. He’s—when did he get this close?!

I’m sure my lips are _burning_ as he presses his to them. It’s so soft and so quick, I’m not completely sure I didn’t imagine it. But he’s looking down like he’s just confessed some great truth, and everything sort of… clicks.

I don’t know how long I’ve sort of… known it. I’m one of the most observant people I know, but I didn’t… How didn’t I see this coming?

He’s looking down. He almost looks _guilty_.

It’s endearing as hell.

I reach out gently, wanting to do what I’ve always wanted to, but never known. I let my fingers disappear in his dark hair; I guide my other hand to his jaw and tilt his chin up, as gently as I can. (Which is actually a lot, considering the hangover I’m going to have tomorrow.)

His eyes look at me, unsure and insecure, cheeks red, and it’s the easiest damn thing in the world to just lean forward and kiss him. It’s so freaking careful at first, all lips and hot breath, before we both seem to realize the lost time we desperately need to make up for (both in this stupid game, and in life), and I find myself pushing him against the wall next to the door, tangling my hands in his hair as I enjoy myself way too much. We both taste like booze, but I can’t think about that.

Will seven minutes be enough?

I’ll just _really_ have to make it count.

\----------

I wake up among the dead. I am merely another corpse strewn across Touka Kirishima’s front room with my fellow fallen comrades. 

But corpses--no, corpses do not feel pain.

And good God, my head feels like I might as well be dead.

Did I seriously play Seven Minutes of Heaven with these people? And did I seriously--

I don’t remember much. I remember a spinning bottle and the vivid purple of Tsukiyama’s suit. I remember Kaneki looking scared. I remember kicking a door. I remember pushing Kaneki Ken up against a wall.

_Shit, shit, shiiiit._

This is not how I wanted any of this to happen. I groan into whatever I’m resting my head on, thinking about how stupid I was. I meant to… I meant to take him to a bookstore and walk with him in the park and take him to freaking Big Girl, and we’d done all that before, but this time it would be _different_ because this time I’d actually tell him how I felt. I’d make him playlists that would make him blush and find the courage to hold his hand when we watch a movie, and then I’d kiss him. I’d pour everything I felt into that kiss, and we’d cuddle, goddammit.

Before I can put more thought into how I failed in my Courting of Kaneki Ken, the thing I’m resting my head on _moves_. The hell--?

Oh. We’re cuddling. I got that part down.

My cheek has practically fused with his sweater at this point, and our legs are a jumbled mess, but hey, we’d managed to snag the couch, which is more than most of the other passed out participants can say. I don’t move, even though I really want to look at his face, because it’s warm and comfy and I, no lies, could stay here the whole day. Maybe that headache might even go away if I wait long enough.

A massive crash in the kitchen resurrects us all in one fell swoop. Kaneki lets out a little yelp and he’s so _cute_.

“YOU BROKE MY FUCKING TOASTER, AYATO, I’M GOING TO--” 

“STOP YELLING, YOU DAMN IMBECILE--” 

Everyone else groans like zombies and looks like they not only regret last night, but every choice that led them to this situation. I, on the other hand, feel Kaneki’s arms tighten around me, his face nuzzling into my hair, and I can’t seem to find myself regretting a single thing.

**Author's Note:**

> thank god for lavendercheerio and their magnificent beta skills u rock Ilyvm


End file.
